I Am A Writer

January 7, 2008 · Posted in Writing

(Originally posted at http://mcory.wordpress.com/ on 12/19/07)

I’ve come to a conclusion that puts things in a whole different perspective. It isn’t anything mind blowing, but it’s a subtle concept that feels great when I try it on.

For most of my adult life, I’ve identified myself as a software developer. Even more so now that I can officially call that my job title. It’s what I went to school for (kinda), it’s what I’ve focused most of my energies on the past several years, it’s been me for quite some time.

There’s absolutely no reason I need to keep thinking that if I choose not to. There’s no reason why I can’t redefine myself as the mood suits me, why I can’t look at life and say “You know, this is what I do for a living, but it’s not who I am.” So, who am I?

Today I call myself a writer; that may change tomorrow, or even later today. That part’s irrelevant — why do I even need to “be” anything? The important thing is that I don’t want to be so closely tied to an industry — any industry, really, just programming in particular at the moment — that I don’t give myself the opportunity to try something else, to see what else is out there that I might love to do.

This comes up from a very common and generally harmless question that we all ask others: “So, what do you do?” It’s often one of the first questions you’ll ask someone, or be asked, when you meet them for the first time.

I hate that question.

Not that I don’t have an answer for it — always have. I just don’t like it. It’s very limiting; if I ask you “So, what do you do?” then from that point forth, you are associated with your answer. All your hopes and anxieties, dreams and fears, aspirations and failures are summed up in your response. I’ll never be able to look at you again without thinking “He’s an engineer” or “She’s an administrative assistant.” You are no longer a person; you are a job.

Okay, I might exaggerate somewhat here — you’re still a person. But my perception of you is now tinted; your choice of career will still come through as an identifier the next time I see you.

Unfortunately, that question is often clarified as “So, what do you do for a living?” That’s a terrible version, as it forces the “standard” response — a programmer, for myself. I ask it when I meet someone for the first time too, though I try to avoid that — “Where do you work” is better, as it subtly breaks the relationship between the person and the job.

So, thinking that, how do I want others to think of me? Not as a programmer. Not that I’m ashamed of it — not by any stretch — but it isn’t “me”. There isn’t really any aspect of me that can be summed up with a single response to such a specialized question. I don’t really want to be pigeonholed as a writer, either, but, as that’s where I’m wanting to go with my life at the moment, it’s more appropriate than identifying myself as a programmer.

I’ve come across a rather arrogant train of thought over the past year and a half that I’ve been giving writing a half-way serious effort: “You can’t call yourself a writer because…”

Bollocks, I tell you. (Or bullshit, if you prefer a more Americanized response.)

There is absolutely no reason whatsoever someone can’t call themselves a writer. I’m writing this blog; ergo, I write; ergo, I’m a writer. I’ve written short stories and a novel. I write emails and shopping lists and notes and poems. I am a writer.

Am I a professional writer? No. I pay my bills by developing software. Am I a good writer? That’s entirely up to you; I think so, and most who have told me anything about my writing have said they think so too, but your mileage may vary. Am I even a published writer? Not yet.

I’m still a writer though. Odds are that you are too, if you choose to call yourself that.

For some reason though, there seems to be quite a few people out there who want to put themselves on a pedestal because they’ve accomplished a certain feat. Which is perfectly fine — you worked hard on your MFA/series of novels/articles/short stories; take pride in it. Unfortunately, a lot of people have a bad habit of denigrating the accomplishments of others. “You aren’t a real writer if you don’t have your first book published and your second one ready to go.” “You aren’t a real writer if you don’t have <insert degree or award here>.” “You aren’t a real writer if you haven’t done/don’t do this, that, or the other thing.”

It’s petty and entirely useless — odds are, whatever qualifications someone tells you that you need in order to call yourself a “real writer”, they have those qualifications. Such people should be sterilized and imprisoned. There’s always someone who’s done more, who’s better qualified to be a “real writer” — if you ever start to think otherwise, or find someone who does think otherwise, I have two words for you: Harry Potter. Seriously, if you’re going to start placing requirements on yourself, you might as well set them high: you aren’t a real writer until you’ve created a cultural icon, have movies made (or planned) of all of your books, and have more money coming in from royalties on merchandise alone than the GDP of a small country.

Alas, that I could vent endlessly (and I could), but the time has come to go be a programmer for another eight hours. And to smoke; can’t forget that.